


Consider This

by sevenminutes



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenminutes/pseuds/sevenminutes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel is pissed. Jesse is horrible at admitting when he's wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consider This

**Author's Note:**

> This goes out to [](http://androgenyus.livejournal.com/profile)[androgenyus](http://androgenyus.livejournal.com/), my best friend, who really encouraged me to work on getting back my porn muse when she got lost. I have so many awesome things in the works and it is ALL BECAUSE OF HER.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“But--”

“No! I don’t want to hear words coming out of your mouth. How hard is that for you to understand?”

“Fine,” he mutters curtly and Rachel narrows her eyes in response.

It’s going to be a long twenty floors up to their penthouse, and she crosses her arms under her breasts after she pushes the button, too frustrated to care about wrinkling her sky blue silk couture gown.

“I think we should talk about this,” he interjects calmly, two floors up.

“I don’t have anything to say,” she scoffs, pursing her lips as she refuses to look at him.

“Oh, come on. That can’t possibly be true. You? _Speechless_?” Her jaw clenches and out of the corner of her eye she sees him roll his eyes.

“Maybe I just don’t want to say anything I’ll regret,” she hisses. Bending towards him sharply, she continues, getting louder, “After all, _words_ are important, don’t you think?”

“Here we go…Just say it, Rachel! You’re mad!”

“ _Of course_ I’m--! No, you know what? I think we should wait to talk about this.”

Jesse rolls his eyes again, throwing his hands up in frustration before he steps in front of her body and runs his hand down the front of the elevator control panel, pressing every single one of the buttons.

“What the fu--!” Her hand shoots out to grab his wrist, too late to stop him. “Jesse!”

“We need to talk about this now!”

They stop on the fifth floor, and Rachel seriously considers getting out and taking the stairs the rest of the way, heels be damned. She makes a move for the door and he grabs her around the waist, holding down the close doors button with his other hand.

“Let me go!” she screams, wriggling against him as he holds her to his chest.

“Let me apologize!”

“You don’t think you did anything wrong!” she screams, shrill in his ear.

Sixth floor. Rachel sees more eye-rolling from Jesse, who’s still holding down the button, and she feels determined to get away. This isn’t like when he pins her to the bed or the shower or the terrace wall. She wants to be anywhere _but_ touching him right now.

She elbows him in the ribs and staggers to the other side of the car, off balance from being off her feet and in the heels.

“What the hell is the matter-- What was that?” she asks frantically as the elevator jolts to a stop. “What did you do?!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he responds, offended by the accusation, even if he had been the one that tried to keep them from getting home.

She shoves him aside to get to the control panel, shooting him a disgusted look as she does so, letting him know how little she believes him. Rachel crouches down, her blue dress dragging on the floor through what she’s convinced is dirt left by every disgusting shoe in New York City, and tries everything she can think of, including an alarm and a phone that are out of service.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, sounding torn between killing Jesse and crying.

“It’s…it’s okay,” he shrugs, watching her from the opposite corner.

Slowly, she straightens and turns to face him, her hands firmly on her hips. There’s fire burning in her gaze, like she’d rather be anywhere but here with him, both because of his earlier transgression and the cavalier way he’s responding to their crisis. A crisis which was entirely his fault.

“Oh, _is it_?” she sneers, raising her eyebrows in that way that only she could. She can simultaneously imply that everything wrong in the world is his fault and question her own sanity for not noticing sooner, for being with him.

“Yeah,” he responds dismissively, pulling a flask out of his breast pocket. “It’s a busy building. They’ll notice the elevator being out of order fairly quickly. No longer than an hour, I’d guess.”

He takes a sip from the flask, and she just _loses it_. Groaning in frustration, she bangs her hands against the doors of the elevator, screaming, “Get me out of here before I kill him!”

“Would you _relax_?” he barks sharply. “It’s not like I’m asking you to talk to me anymore.”

They stand together for a moment, the silence smoldering between them, until…

“Unless--”

“Jesus Christ, Jesse!”

“-- _Unless_ you’d like to use this opportunity to resolve things,” he finishes, glancing at her from his side.

“How exactly are we supposed to resolve it, hmm?” She leaves her place by her wall, walking over to him and pushing him back against the brass bar behind him. “How do you resolve you forgetting to mention me in your speech?” she asks, glancing pointedly at the medal around his neck.

“I didn’t know I was going to win!” he repeats himself for the sixteenth time that night. “I didn’t know what to say, so I settled for thanking the writers, the director, and my cast mates, since they’re the ones that I actually worked on the project with--”

“And you don’t think your loving, committed girlfriend, the person that kept you sane day in and day out, the person that for years has vowed to thank you first, deserves so much as a mention?” She’s keeping him pinned against the wall with the heel of her hand digging into his shoulder, glaring down at the medal she crossed her fingers and prayed for him to win.

“For the last time, I didn’t ignore you on purpose! I was caught off-guard and I forgot! I’m _sorry_.”

She shakes her head in disbelief, the diamonds in her ears catching the yellow light reflecting off the metal walls, before she whispers, “I’m not sure you are.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he counters immediately.

“I don’t know…” she shrugs, her bare shoulders rising as she purses her lips.

“Take it back,” he growls, to which she raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. “Take. It. Back.”

“Make me.”

Then she’s not the only one that’s pissed, and she’s no longer got the upper hand. As he pins her to the back wall of the elevator car, lifting her up onto his waist and crushing her as he kisses her roughly, it occurs to her that she probably never did. He just let her think she did.

Once she’s able to break away from his lips and actually speak, she shakes her head, breathing heavily.

“You think fucking me here is going to make up for you forgetting me?”

His answer is to drop her leg and lower her to the floor, Rachel swaying slightly on her strappy gold stiletto sandals, the ones she’d bought and worn specifically for him. Jesse crouches slightly in front of her, bunching the silk skirt of her dress in his hands as he reaches beneath to slide her thong down her thighs and off her legs. He slips the scrap of lace into his pants pocket before tossing his jacket in the corner.

“Don’t talk to me,” he responds, his voice hard as steel.

Pinned against the wall again, Rachel can’t help but cooperate when he wraps her leg over his waist and grinds his hips against hers. Even if she is still pissed at him, she deftly unbuttons a few more buttons of his shirt to expose his neck and pulls him closer to her by his suspenders.

“Tell me,” he grunts, as he inserts two fingers into her, causing her to bite down harder on his earlobe than she’d intended to, “T-tell me to my face, right now, that you still doubt me. That you think I forgot you on purpose.”

The rhythm he’s rubbing into her clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of her is almost enough to make her lose focus. Almost.

“I-I do,” she whimpers, clinging desperately to him, her fists gripping the material over his shoulders.

“Really?” he responds immediately, offended by her accusation, punctuating the question by thrusting a third finger inside her. She can’t keep it up then, and she sighs his name before biting her lip and letting her head fall back against the wall with a dull thud.

“Please,” she begs him breathlessly.

“Should I stop?” he hisses against the shell of her ear causing her to shake her head insistently, almost desperately. But he pulls his hand out of her anyway, causing her to whine and dig her heels into his back to keep him close.

There’s a single, flimsy tie holding the top of her dress up, and Jesse reaches for it, only needing to give it a slight tug before a wash of blue silk falls to her waist and leaves her breasts completely exposed. He takes the hand that was just inside her and reaches for her left breast as he kisses her intensely, his teeth on her lips and his tongue moving with hers in her mouth.

His slick fingers brush against her nipple causing it to harden before Jesse rolls it between his forefinger and thumb making Rachel shudder, her breathing becoming more labored by the second.

“Jesse, please,” she begs him again, something like a cross between a whine and a whimper caught in the back of her throat.

“I don’t know,” he responds, hitching her legs up higher on his waist as slides her up the wall to be better able to kiss and nip at her neck. “You seemed to think that I don’t care about you…”

“No,” she cries, her arms wrapping all the way around his shoulders to keep him close, determined not to let him get away. “I know you do.”

“Do you?”

She nods, so close to him that she has to tip her head to the side to avoid hitting him in the forehead, before closing the small distance and kissing him, hot and needy, moaning against his lips. It’s as if she’s trying to prove to him how much she loves him, and the thought occurs to her, in the back of a brain that’s clearly distracted, that this is so fucked up, because he’s the one that fucked up.

But it seems to be just what Jesse’s looking for because he shifts her weight against the wall and shrugs off his suspenders before quickly undoing the fastening of his pants and shoving them down, Rachel barely hanging on.

His hands settle on her ass, his fingers digging into the flesh and likely leaving marks behind, and Rachel doesn’t wait before she reaches between them, taking his cock in her hand and stroking him a few times.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he groans, taking her wrist and pinning it to the elevator wall.

She doesn’t get to answer him, because he surges forward and claims her lips in another bruising kiss, asserting his position to her again. That’s what this is about after all, making her eat her words and regret ever implying that he doesn’t care.

Continuing the lesson, he thrusts inside of her hard and sudden, catching her by surprise just as his fingers had earlier. He fills her completely and she moans, far too loudly for their location. Even in a _stopped_ elevator car, there’s still a hallway and apartments around them, and that only adds to the sense of urgency charging the atmosphere.

“F-fuck,” he grunts into the curve of her neck, starting to move as he finds a rhythm that balances and uses her slight weight to the best advantage.

“Jesse,” she whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut. She’s been on the edge since he pinned her against the wall, his eyes dark with desire, and kissed her. The combined feeling of her shoulder blades digging into the cool, mirrored wall, with his warm breath on her neck and his hard cock pounding into her sends her tumbling into ecstasy and her toes curl in her shoes as she comes with a high-pitched cry.

Jesse keeps thrusting, even as her walls clench around him as if determined to make him break and she moans in his ear. While she rides out her orgasm, she’s able to do little more than cling to him, her arms and legs wrapped so tightly around him. And even as she comes down from one, she feels the passion rising up in her again.

“Ah!,” she cries when he thrusts into her deeper, feeling like she couldn’t possibly take any more of him in. “You feel s-so good,” she sighs harshly in his ear, her abs burning as she starts to move with him more, gripping the bar behind her for leverage.

“S-so do you,” he mutters, kissing her jaw. “You’re so tight, baby. Got so w-wet for me, so fast.”

The way he says those things, like he’s praising her for her latest performance, she can’t help but smile at them. Knowing how much he loves her, loves having sex with her, is always the best part. Whether they’re fighting, making up, or making love just because, it never fails to push her so much closer to coming.

This time is no different, and Rachel rolls her hips in time to his, threading her hand into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer to kiss him frantically. She’s so close again, and she can tell by the way he’s thrusting that Jesse is, too.

“T-touch me,” she whimpers, the edge to her voice frenzied and filled with need. “I’m so c-close. I want to come a-around you again, baby.”

He curses harshly before sliding a hand between their bodies and quickly finding her clit. He touches her roughly, still pounding into her, and it doesn’t take much before she’s coming again, her head thrown back against the wall as she cries out. He thrusts into her even as she feels how tightly her body is clenching and pulsing and she counts three (or maybe it’s four) thrusts before he follows her. He grabs onto her hips, pushing her harder against the wall as he thrusts as deeply as he can and finally releases himself.

The feeling of him coming inside of her, the warmth that fills her and the way her body soaks it up is almost the best part.

He takes a moment, holding himself still inside of her while he catches his breath. Then, he slowly untangles her from where she had wrapped herself and her limbs around him and lowers her to the floor, holding onto her tightly until he’s sure she can stand on her own.

But once her feet touch the tiled floor, she knows she won’t stay that way for long and she holds his forearms as she sinks to the floor to rest against the wall. She’s ruining her dress, getting come all over the silk, but she can’t bring herself to care as she focuses on breathing and slowing her heart rate.

“Okay…I forgive you.”

 

THE END.


End file.
